


Like the Sea

by resonae



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We can go to – I dunno, where do you want to go?”</p><p>Clint stared silently, half wondering if Stark was being serious or if he was just being Stark. “Cancun.” He tried.</p><p>Stark clutched his heart (devoid of chestplate). “The best you can come up with is Cancun? Dream a little bigger, darling.” </p><p>Clint narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make Inception references.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like the Sea

 Maybe he’d known from the beginning, with the gigantic rabbit doll.

 

Clint looked at the arc reactor, dripping with water, and wondered if it still worked. But of course it would, right? He’d seen Stark drop into water plenty of times. He stuffed the thing into his pocket and gnawed the inside of his lip, looking up where Stark had driven away from his destroyed home.

 

He swallowed thickly. He heard Stark talk about anxiety attacks, how much New York had affected him. Just the word ‘Avengers’ made Stark drop into panic. Clint looked at the reactor in his hand. Why had he gone into the ocean to pick it up? He’d seen exactly where it dropped, and with a bit of SHIELD technology tracking the currents, it wasn’t hard to find, especially since it had been all but 3 minutes since Stark had hurled it into the ocean.

 

Stark didn’t want to be a part of them. That was clear.

 

Clint wasn’t cleared for anything that was risky at all (yet), which was why he’d originally been assigned to spy on Stark – even if Stark found out Clint was spying on him, it was highly, highly unlikely he’d go violent on Clint.

 

He’d pretty much made the vents above Stark’s (new) home in Malibu his second home. It was more comfortable than the Helicarrier, where everyone glared death at him. Sometimes he saw Dr. Banner, which was cool.

 

Banner and Stark were close. It was the whole science thing, Clint guessed. He watched them engrossed in some kind of research or spend hours (or days) on end on a tiny little dust particle. Sometimes Pepper came into the lab and scolded them like they were little boys. Sometimes Nat visited, and her eyes would slide upward to where he was watching from the vent, but never when Stark was watching. She’d nod once, barely noticeable. He knew she was pretty much doing to Captain America what he was doing to Stark, except Cap knew he was under Natasha-watch and didn’t mind it. Thor was still who-knew-where (otherwise known as Asgard).

 

He knew Fury’d thrown him in Stark’s direction mostly because he needed one of his best agents doing _something_ until Psych decided he was okay to go on another mission, and some because he felt pity for Clint, cowering away from the hate where he once used to stride cocky.

 

\--

 

_His hands were cold and unforgivably bruising against Clint’s hips. He wanted to scream but couldn’t, wanted to cry but couldn’t._

_It hurt. He’d been through it before, as a spy, but it was different. He felt the tip of the blade graze his lower back and he sobbed internally at the pain burning through his body. The blade sank about half an inch into the skin right above his hips and Clint wanted to move away from the pain of it all, but he couldn’t._

\--

 

“Whoa, tiger. Relax.”

 

“Wha-“

 

“Or maybe I guess it’s ‘hawk’, right?”

 

Clint’s first response to waking up somewhere he didn’t remember was lash out, but his fist was caught by a gold-and-red armored hand. He blinked at it and then slid his gaze up. The golden faceplate slid up to reveal Stark. “Where am I?” Clint’s voice sounded hoarse even to himself. Like he’d been screaming. He cleared his throat, and it felt like sandpaper. Definitely screaming. “How’d you find me, and why are you in a suit?”

 

Stark shrugged and in a few metallic clinks, he’d stepped out of his suit. “I didn’t know how you might react if you woke up and saw me. Good thing I had it on, though, otherwise I’d probably have a black eye. As to how I found you… well, uh. It was by accident. I was bored and had nothing to do, so I started cleaning the vents and you were there asleep. I thought you were dead, by the way. You were all pale and blue-lipped and not really breathing. You’re in my bed, and getting up is not a good idea.”

 

Clint ignored the last remark and swung his legs off the bed. He was lightheaded and maybe a little nauseous, but he didn’t have a fever. He managed to make two steps before his knees gave way. He would have flipped over to keep himself from faceplanting, but instead a warm arm gripped his waist. “Told you.” Stark clicked his tongue. “Pep brought in a doctor to take a look at you, and he said you were – let’s see…” Stark twirled his hand and a long list Clint guessed was his diagnosis appeared.

 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Clint muttered as Stark pushed him back onto the bed. “Don’t you have other beds than your own?”

 

Stark shrugged. “Course I do. But you sleeping here where I could keep an eye on you seems like a good idea.” He turned back to the rest of his room. He’d brought up his lab just so he could multitask. “How long have you been here?”

 

“That’s classified information, but I don’t doubt you haven’t already hacked into SHIELD files.” Clint snapped and hated the way it sounded weak instead. He closed his eyes and shuddered. “I can’t sleep on this bed.”

 

“What? I’m not taking it right now.”

 

“No.” Clint said, frustrated at himself. “It’ll give me nightmares.”

 

Understanding snapped onto Stark’s face. His hand stopped to hover over the wrench he was about to pick up. “Is that where he –“

 

“Yes, he raped me on a bed.” Clint snapped. Or tried. He hoped Stark didn’t notice the way his voice shook on the last word. He wrapped the blanket around himself and kicked himself off the bed. “I’m going back to sleep.”

 

When he woke up, he found himself moved onto a futon instead of a bed, a pillow tucked under his head. He blinked up at the darkness and sat up slowly.

 

“ _Evening, sir._ ” Clint nodded. “ _It is currently 11:22 PM. I have announced that you are awake to Master Stark._ ” Clint nodded again, shivering lightly. “ _Would you like for me to raise the temperature?_ ”

 

It was Stark, walking through the door, who answered instead. “Yeah, JARVIS, do that for me.” He eyed Clint warily for a second. “I called the doctor again. It’s the second time you’ve been out for over 48 hours. Considering you were awake for about 5 minutes before, you were pretty much out for about 100 hours straight. That’s not normal.”

 

Clint slid off the futon and glared up at the billionaire. “Says the man who stayed up for over 72 hours,” he snapped. He wondered if he should try getting up and opted to look as graceful as possible as he could as he pushed himself up slowly.

 

Stark said nothing for a while as Clint re-oriented himself. “You look good in my clothes.”

 

Clint glared daggers at him again. “What, you’re bi, now? I thought you were in a stable relationship with Pepper Potts.” He considered taking the clothes off and changing into his own clothes that he saw neatly folded (probably the work of JARVIS or Pepper) near his pillow, but the sweats and shirt were too comfortable and he hadn’t dressed that way in a while.

 

“That wasn’t a pick up line. It was fact.” Stark shrugged, and then said, “I used to think I was the biggest victim of the New York incident.” Before Clint could get in _is that what we’re calling it now_ , Stark continued, “I almost died, and for me that was a big enough shock. But then I realized _all_ of us almost died. Except maybe Thor and Bruce. I was staring at you, sleeping, and I promise that’s not as creepy as it sounds, and I remembered seeing your back.”

 

Clint’s shoulders tensed. “My back?”

 

“Yeah. It didn’t really register back then, but your back was shredded, wasn’t it. Romanoff told me they pulled out so many glass pieces from your back she couldn’t even keep count.” Oh. That back. Clint relaxed a fraction of an inch. “That made me realize how beat up we all were. I mean, even Thor. And the Hulk. I wasn’t the only one who almost died. All of us did. And you – you suffered the most.”

 

“Don’t sell yourself short, Stark.” Clint muttered. “You’re falling out of character.”

 

“What’s it mean?” Stark pressed on. “Did you ever ask Thor?” Clint froze. “I thought so. I saw it, when I was pulling you into new clothes.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it, all right?” Clint snapped, tugging the shirt off and reaching for his combat suit again. “I need to borrow your phone.”

 

“If you’re going to report to Fury, no need. I did it for you when I first found you. He said, ‘God damn, finally. Why’d it take you so long? I even sent Romanoff over to drop all the hints.’ He also told me to tell you you’re on vacation until you can walk back and glare everything back down.”

 

Clint pulled his hand back and rubbed his face. Great. Of course. He’d been wondering why Nat was giving him glances his way when JARVIS could have tracked it. Not that she needed to, because in the end he’d fallen asleep on shift. In a goddamned air conditioning vent. It was a wonder he hadn’t died of hypothermia.

 

“They care about you.” Stark said, and Clint growled in warning. He _knew_ that, and he didn’t need some billionaire with his own share of problems to tell him. “Hey, let’s go on a vacation.”

 

Clint looked up. “What.”

 

“A vacation. Fuck, Pep’s been telling me I need it, and obviously you need one, too. We’ll have some… Avengers team bonding.” Clint didn’t miss the way his face scrunched lightly at the word _Avengers_. “We can go to – I dunno, where do you want to go?”

 

Clint stared silently, half wondering if Stark was being serious or if he was just being _Stark_. “Cancun.” He tried.

 

Stark clutched his heart (devoid of chestplate). “The best you can come up with is Cancun? Dream a little bigger, darling.”

 

Clint narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make Inception references.”

 

Stark snickered. “Yes! Finally someone who gets it. I tried it on Steve which, I mean, okay, it didn’t work, understandable. But Bruce and Romanoff didn’t get it either. What gives? JARVIS, throw us some Maldives.” 

 

Clint stared at the projections of beautiful, clear beaches with sand as white as snow. Stark twirled his hand and the projections zoomed into one of the wooden buildings on the beach. The buildings were purposely quaint on the outside but nothing short of luxurious inside. The middle of the floor was made of glass, and it slid open to reveal a brightly lit pool of ocean water. Clint stared. The water was so clear that he could see straight through to the floor. “Wow.” He breathed.

 

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Stark chuckled. “Like it?” Clint couldn’t help but nod. “Hmm. Let’s go to Australia, JARVIS. Great Barrier Reef.” Clint blinked when the scenery changed to yet another beautiful view of the sea. The building was another house, more modern in design, and instead of the pool sinking in from the middle, it was in the front porch in the sea. “Good, huh? Let’s head next to Chile.”

 

Stark took him through the most amazing hotels all over the world, all of them built in nature. “I don’t want to take you to Las Vegas.” Stark shrugged. “Or Singapore, even though their hotels are nice. We’re gonna go to heal somewhere quiet. Become one with the nature, stuff like that.”

 

Clint stared. “You’re taking me to these places.”

 

Stark frowned. “Why else do you think I’m showing you this? Yes, I’m taking you to these places. I was thinking one, but if you want to go to many we can do that.”

 

“No, I… Why are you taking me?”

 

Stark raised an eyebrow. “I told you. To take a vacation. To heal. For both of us. So I won’t be bored out of my mind, and you won’t fall asleep out of nowhere while you’re swimming or something and drown.”

 

Clint glared, but stared at the numerous choices spread out across him. “I’ve always wanted to go to the Great Barrier Reef.”

 

Stark grinned. “Australia it is. JARVIS, get me a flight to Australia.”

 

\--

 

In person, the Great Barrier Reef was even more amazing. Clint dipped his hand into the water in front of the house (and it was a _house_ , not a hut or whatever else Stark called it) and he could see clearly through the white sands below. He leaned over the edge of the wooden balcony and sunk his entire arm, mesmerized by the sight of his hand in the clear water. He’d never seen water so clear.

 

He looked around – Stark was the only one nearby, and Clint could hear him in the room. He quickly stripped and slid into his swimming trunks, folded everything neatly and slipped quietly into the water. He surfaced again and took a deep breath, sinking into the waters. It was deeper than it looked, but not so much that water pressure was a problem. But of course, since the house was close enough to shore, and it was standing on wooden supports.

 

He’d always had a big lung capacity – it was something he’d made for himself on missions. He picked a starfish off one of the supports and slowly made his way up, the bright blue mesmerizing. But he let it float down to the floor as he surfaced to take another breath, and then sank down again.

 

He didn’t know how much longer he’d gone for, diving and surfacing, but when he swam over to the balcony, Stark was waiting for him. Clint hoisted himself up, and Stark whistled. “You’re some sight, dripping with water like that.”

 

Clint glared and shook his head, spraying water to annoy Stark, but he only laughed. “Take a glass of champagne. It’s alcohol-free.”

 

Clint took it, hesitantly. “Hey, it’s not so bad.” He then frowned. “How’d you know I don’t drink alcohol?” Tony shrugged in answer and Clint narrowed his eyes. “You hacked into my files.”

 

“Hey, in my defense, you saw my files, too.” Tony shrugged. “Plus, I did it before I realized you guys were decent. I mean, Bruce, I knew I’d get along with. Guessed Thor, too. Knew Romanoff. Well, thought she was someone else for a while, but still. But you and Steve? Not really my style of group of friends. No offense.”

 

Clint shrugged, not really offended. He took a sip of the champagne again. It was sweet, but not too sweet, and he savored it, unsure if he could ask Tony for another glass. He was aware that Tony was watching him intensely. “I had a lot of questions for you,” Tony finally said, “But I narrowed it down to two.”

 

Clint shrugged one shoulder. “You can ask one. Since you brought me here.”

 

Tony frowned, a little, and Clint wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. Tony snatched his half-empty glass and poured him a full one. “You don’t owe me anything for me bringing you here. I wanted to. I’ll ask you one to commemorate our blooming friendship.” He stood, and when he came back, he was holding something in his hand. Tony hesitated for a moment before opening his palm to show Clint what it was.

 

Clint flinched. It was the arc reactor. He’d forgotten about it. He’d had it on him when Tony found him, and since he’d also undressed him, it would’ve made sense Tony found it on him. It hadn’t occurred to him to put two and two together. _Real smooth, Clint_ , he thought, rubbing his forehead. He reached for it, and when he took it out of Tony’s hands, Tony didn’t hold it back. “Why do you have it?”

 

Clint ran his fingers along the reactor’s grooves. “I went and got it. After you threw it. It wasn’t SHIELD orders. Fury knows you tossed it and that I went after it. But I didn’t tell him I actually found it.” He offered it back, and Tony took it, looking uncertain. “I don’t know why I did it. I just did.” After a long silence, he asked, “Why’d you toss it?”

 

Tony looked down at the machine in his hands. “I didn’t need it anymore. You know… I didn’t start this to save others. I did it to save myself. To keep the shrapnel from getting to my heart. Now that they’re out, I figured. I didn’t need it anymore.”

 

Clint snorted. “If you’re going to hide something, there’s no need to lie to me. No point. I won’t judge you for it.”

 

Tony hesitated, then smiled hesitantly. “No lying to a master spy, huh?” Clint shrugged, and sipped at the glass. Tony rubbed the arc reactor with his thumb. “Keep it safe for me.” Tony said, handing it over to Clint. Clint took it impulsively, but stared at Tony. “Who knows. I may need it someday.”

 

“You blew up all your suits.” Clint pointed out.

 

“You were there, too?”

 

Clint scowled. “You really think you and the colonel took out all those people by yourselves? I took out more than half of them.” He shrugged with one shoulder again. “There were explosions everywhere. I didn’t think you’d notice. And you didn’t.”

 

Tony stared, like he didn’t know how to respond to that. He settled on chuckling softly and said, “Still. Keep it safe for me.”

 

\--

 

They slept in separate rooms, and Clint warned, “Don’t creep up on me while I’m sleeping. It’s not going to end well for you.”

 

He hovered over the lock in the door. He doubted any enemy was going to try to ambush him here, of all places. Especially because there was now the added threat of Iron Man. The only person who he’d be keeping out was Tony himself, which could prove to be troubling, especially if Clint _did_ get into trouble. But then again, Clint guessed if he was ever in that much trouble, Tony would blast through the door. Or it could become a hindrance on his way out if _Tony_ got in trouble, but then again Tony was Iron Man and if a locked door could prove to be a hindrance, Clint was going to need to find another job.

 

“Just _lock_ it.” Tony yelled from where he was lying on the bed, across the hall. He looked amused. “You’re spending way too much time staring at that lock.”

 

Clint decided against locking it in the end and slammed it shut instead, aware he was being like a little kid. He eased out of his shorts and shirt and slid into the bath-thing. Each room had its own private bath, along with the public bath-pool thing that connected to the ocean in the living room. Clint let the hot water run and he gnawed on his lip as he looked at himself in the mirror.

 

He was a work of scars, of all kinds. Some of them were from missions and others were from torture. He had a set of cigarette burns that dotted his inner thigh from one of his mishaps, and he kind of liked it. At first they’d been ugly and marred, black with charred flesh, but now they’d healed over to small white circles. It was almost artistic, in a kind of messed up way. In any case, it was the prettiest of his scars. A row of evenly-spaced circles.

 

Well. Second prettiest, he guessed, if he was being totally objective. He turned cautiously to see the mirror reflection of his back. An elaborate script was scarred over his lower back, just over the curve of his hips. It was red, still, and a bit bruised around the edges, but it didn’t hurt anymore. Not physically.

 

He felt like vomiting looking at it, so he just shut off the water in his filled tub and sank into it. The water was just right, neither too hot nor too cold, and Clint sighed happily. It’d been _ages_ since he took a bath, and even longer since he’d been able to fully enjoy something like this.

 

The shampoo and body wash smelled like apples. Not like the fake apples that some stores claimed their perfume smelled like, but fresh, _real_ apples. Like he was standing in the middle of a quiet orchard by the sea. He squeezed it into his palms and lathered, almost a little too gleefully.

 

The water got too soapy in the end so he had to refill it, and this time he sat around in the tub, watching the water level rise slowly up his body. He shut it off when it filled up to the brim of the tub and sank deeper in it, resting his head on the ledge. Some of the water sloshed and spilled over and he watched it.

 

He felt safe. Comfortable.

 

\--

 

“So,” Tony said, when he opened his eyes and found himself on the bed. “This is the third time you fainted on me.”

 

“I didn’t _faint_ ,” Clint protested, a little sulkily, maybe. “I fell asleep. How’d you know I was asleep in the bath, anyway?”

 

Tony waved his hand. “Same _difference_. I heard you get in the bath but didn’t hear you get out. An hour, yeah, I can let you have that. But two, no way. You just better be happy the tubs warm too-cold water, or you’d probably have a cold. Thankfully you’re just dehydrated. So I hooked you up to an IV.”

 

Clint eyed the Ringer’s solution in the bag. “You just had this ready?” He asked, drily. He knew he was probably supposed to be grateful. The fact that he’d fallen asleep in the _bath_ made him feel uncomfortable. The fact that he trusted Tony enough to fall asleep naked without a weapon nearby made him feel even more uncomfortable.

 

Tony rolled his eyes. “No, I asked the hotel to get me some. I’m Tony Stark. I can get anything.” He tapped Clint’s wrist. “Do you feel sick, or whatever?” Clint shook his head. “I’d also ask if you were suicidal, or something, except when I found you, you just looked so damned comfortable. Not like you were trying to kill yourself. Just like you fell asleep.”

 

“I _did_ just fall asleep.” Clint answered, and eyed the bag of solution again. It was about half empty. “How long was I out?” It was dark out.

 

Tony shrugged. “Give or take 2, 3 hours? You almost gave me a heart attack, you know. Anyway, good thing you left your door unlocked.” He pours a cup of cool water for Clint. “This better not become a habit, Barton. I don’t like finding people I care about unconscious all the time.”

 

“You care about me?” Clint said, looking up from his cup of water.

 

Tony frowned. “Course I do. You don’t care about me?” Clint found out he _did_ care about Tony, and it made him feel unsettled.

 

They spent the morning quietly and without any fusses. Clint ate everything Tony gave him, and Tony banned Clint from swimming for the day, so instead they lounged around in the cabin. “This feels like a waste,” Clint said, antsy. “Don’t you have a boat or something?”

 

“In fact, I do have a boat. Multiple. But I’m driving, then.”

 

Clint didn’t complain. He figured he could learn to drive a boat if his life depended on it, but as of now he didn’t. He just waited, sinking his legs in the ocean as he waited for the boat to get around.

 

Tony’s speedboat was an obnoxious red lined with gold, and Clint narrowed his eyes at it. “ _Seriously_?” He said, feeling like an idiot just _looking_ at it. “You have to shove ‘ _I’m Iron Man_ ’ in your face at everyone, all the time?”

 

Tony winked at him as he helped Clint onto the boat – not that Clint needed help. “I like red and gold. Powerful colors.” The colors of a king, Clint thought, but didn’t say it out loud because Tony had a big enough ego. He sat as far back as he could, staring out back at the white waves that the speedboat swept up.

 

The ocean was so clear that he could see through it, even with the disturbances of the boat. The fish scattered and came together, and once he even spotted a shark, swimming nonchalantly below the waves. He kept his eye on it for as long as he could, and when he lost it, he looked up instead to the picture the mountains and the sky made. “Tony.” He called, and Tony glanced back. “Stop the boat.”

 

The boat came to a stop slowly, and Tony raised an eyebrow. “Sup, Legolas? Feeling sick?”

 

“No, I just – I just want to watch the ocean.” Tony smiled at that, and he shut the engine off, coming to sit next to Clint as Clint leaned over the side of the boat, watching the clear waters below. It was never boring, the way it moved, the way there was so much _life_ under the surface.

 

Clint sighed, content. He was vaguely aware of Tony watching the oceans the same way he was, and when he looked up, he caught Tony’s eye and Tony chuckled at him. “Never took you for the type to appreciate nature.”

 

Clint frowned and he almost wanted to say _of course I appreciate nature_ but just shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. Tony came up to sit by him, a comfortable presence next to him even though he was saying nothing. Clint glanced his way and saw Tony was making notes on his StarkPad. “Do you ever go anywhere without that thing?”

 

Tony looked startled. “No.” He looked at the tablet. “I guess you have a point.” He slid it back into his pocket and leaned back. “I never appreciated this thing. Sure, I knew it was pretty and all, but I was always on technology. You’re right, though. I shouldn’t let it distract me because – fuck. I never realized how nice all of this is.” Clint didn’t say anything, just shrugged and went back to watching the ocean.

 

Clint cooked that night, grilling steak on the outdoor grill the house came with and flipping sweet potatoes and potatoes next to it. He wouldn’t quite call it _cooking_ , he guessed, but still. He took a sip of the orange juice they’d picked up on a grocery run and wondered if Tony was mangling the vegetables that he was so intent on cooking.

 

He kind of smelled something burning, but he figured they could just jump into the ocean if Tony ever set the place on fire. It was _right_ there. All the same, he peeked into the kitchen, frowning when he found it filled with smoke. “Tony,” he said. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want me doing this?”

 

Tony looked up, face bright with excitement. “Yeah. I mean, it took a few burnt onions but I think I got it.” He showed Clint the fried onions and peppers, and true to his word, it looked decent. If Clint was ignoring the pile of black unmentionables on the side. “Oh, and I managed to steam shit without burning anything.”

 

Clint shuffled over to see the bowl of steamed carrots and broccoli. He popped a carrot piece into his mouth and found it slightly too overcooked but bearable. “Great. Bring them out, it’s just about done.”

 

He slid out first to check on the steak – not burnt, which was good. He wanted his well done – not burnt like some restaurants thought ‘well done’ meant. Well done as in cooked thoroughly and well throughout. Tony’s was the same, and he flipped them onto the plate that Tony brought out along with the potatoes.

 

“Fuck,” Tony said, slicing into one. “I am so hungry and this smells like you got it from a 5-star.”

 

Clint had never eaten at a 5-star restaurant in his life, and he didn’t mention it. He cut into his – SHIELD taught their recruits proper eating etiquette, from how to cut steak to telling which one was the salad fork and which spoon was for the soup – and sighed happily around the food. It’d been a while since he had a decent meal.

 

Tony seemed to have recognized this and he looked up. “When’s the last time you had a decent meal?”

 

Clint shrugged. “Dunno. Can’t remember.” He bit into his potato, grinning. “Don’t worry too much about it. It’s not like I was starving myself, or anything. Just lived off of instant food for a while.” He chewed thoughtfully. “It also helps that this tastes amazing.” Tony didn’t push. He just nodded, and they ate dinner in companionable silence.

 

Clint didn’t lock the door that night, again, and opted for a shower instead of a bath this time. There was a knock on his door after he was out and he opened it to find Tony. “Okay, good. I was just making sure you weren’t passed out in the tub again.”

 

Clint rolled his eyes but waved him away instead of shutting the door in his face. He flopped on the bed, and sighed at how comfortable the thing was. He dug under the covers, uncaring about his wet hair, and let the plush comforter fall around him. He was comfortable, and he let his eyes shut, digging himself into a nest of blankets.

 

He didn’t remember much except bright blue when his eyes snapped open, and he was left panting and shivering. He wondered if he screamed, and shakily pushed himself up. “Hey,” a voice said, and Clint jumped, his hands sliding under his pillow for his gun until he realized it was Tony. “You’re up.”

 

He could just about make Tony’s outline as he got up to flick on the lights. He was holding a cup, and Tony offered it to him. Clint took it and hugged the warm mug to him. It was full of milk. Where had Tony gotten milk? “Sorry. Did I – did I wake you up?”

 

“Yeah, but no need. I get nightmares. Although I don’t scream during it.” Tony shrugged. “… Listen, Clint. I know you don’t like me intruding, but did you… ask Thor about it? It could be – it could be a spell that Loki left.”

 

Clint laughed, feeling hollow. “Yeah, I asked. SHIELD asked, too. And did about fifty tests before they decided it really was just a scar he cut into my back.” Clint wondered if he could take a sip of milk and decided against it when his hands shook violently. “It says ‘little hawk’. I can see the curiosity in your eyes.” He sighed and squeezed the mug, hoping it wouldn’t fall out of his shaky grip. Tony said nothing, but he stayed until Clint fell back asleep.

 

Clint woke up the next morning to a presence behind him on the bed. “Be thankful I’m not Nat,” he grumbled a little, turning so he could face a sleeping Tony. “I would’ve killed you without a second thought.”

  
Tony was lying on top of the blankets, and it would take too much effort for Clint to wiggle out from under it without disturbing him, so he decided he was just going to deal with it. He shifted, sliding his hands under the pillow to make sure his gun was still there.

 

He fell asleep again, and only woke up because Tony moved a lot as he woke up. He felt guilty, almost, because he was being so lazy, but that was what they’d come on this vacation to do. To be lazy and do nothing. Tony stared at him, blinking, and said, “God, you have the prettiest eyes. Anyone tell you that?”

 

The question caught him unprepared, and instead of a snarky reply back, he just blinked in surprise. He recovered quickly and said, “I thought you said you _weren’t_ bi. What are you doing sleeping on my bed, anyway?”

 

Tony winked. “I never said I wasn’t bi. I was just complimenting you, don’t panic.” He sat up and stretched. “Clint, don’t freak out over compliments. Just take it.”

 

“Why are you doing this?” Clint asked, and when Tony raised an eyebrow. He motioned to the space around them. “This. Taking me to a vacation. Taking care of me.” 

 

Tony’s eyes softened. “The same reason why you went after my arc reactor.” Clint didn’t know why he went after Tony’s arc reactor, and then thought maybe that Tony didn’t really know why he was doing this, either. Great. They were two people who had no idea what they were doing. “Don’t think too much, Barton. That’s my job.”

 

\--

 

So Clint decided not to look too deep into things. They spent most of their time going out in Tony’s boat. Tony left his StarkPad in his pocket, and usually had a book along to read while Clint just watched the clear ocean beneath them. “This isn’t something I imagined to be a part of you,” Tony told him on the third day. Clint looked up from tracking a small yellow fish swim around the reef. “Just. Be so interested in watching the ocean.”

 

“It’s always changing.” Clint pointed out. “Beats staring at the same place for days.”

 

Tony considered that. “I know. It’s what you do when you’re sniping. So I didn’t think you’d do the same thing on your days off.”

Clint just shrugged and slid his gaze back to the ocean. He’d lost sight of the fish, but he caught onto a purple one instead and he folded his arms, resting his chin onto his hand. Tony said nothing for a while, but then scooted closer, his shoulder brushing against Clint’s, and Clint said nothing.

 

\--

 

“What if I get you a huge tank of fish? We can, like, install glass floors on your floor and have the floor beneath you be a huge tank.” Tony told him on the 5th day. “And then I can come up with you on your floor and we can just do this right in the tower.”

 

“The tower? My floor?”

 

Tony smirked. “Oh, come on. You’ve been spying on me. Don’t tell me you didn’t know I was planning to renovate the Stark Tower to the Avengers Tower.”

 

Clint shrugged. “Well, I knew, but… I thought it was an on-the-whim project. You didn’t really follow up on it.” He amended, “I guess you had other things in mind. But why would you go through the trouble of having an entire floor be an aquarium? Just for me?”

 

“Well, maybe the floor can be between us and I can look up and see it, too.”

 

Clint frowned. “You’re not taking the penthouse?”

 

Tony shrugged. “You like high places, right? To be honest, I’d feel safer with you doing what you do best even in the tower. Wait, I was going to install a shooting range right below your floor. That’s not going to work if I put in an aquarium underneath your floor.” Tony frowned and started to trace out what seemed to be floor plans on the seat.

 

Clint watched him in silence for a while, and then leaned back away from his position up against the back of the boat. “I don’t get it. Why are you doing this?” When Tony looked up, he gestured to the invisible lines that Tony was tracing out. “Giving me the penthouse. Talking about installing an _aquarium_ under the floor – which I don’t want, by the way. Building me a range in the tower. Just – I thought you and Pepper Potts were doing okay.”

 

Tony leaned back in the seat, leaning back on it now that Clint was pulling away from it. “I’m building a gymnastics set for Romanoff. A lab for Bruce. A workout room for Steve. Still in the process of what to do for Thor. I mean, all these are going to be public space, but they’re going to be adjacent to their floors.” When Clint didn’t look convinced, he added, “Pepper and I are just friends.”

 

\--

 

Clint woke up next morning and managed to wriggle out from under Tony’s arm without waking him. He padded into the bathroom and stared at himself. “What are you doing, Hawkeye?” He whispered. The mirror had no answers for him, and he snorted. “What am I _doing_?”

 

“Stop doubting yourself, for one.” Clint started, and then felt stupid when he saw Tony leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. “You enjoyed the vacation, didn’t you? You liked spending time with me. And you enjoyed yourself last night. Don’t try to say no to that one. I was _there_.” Tony wriggled his eyebrows and Clint spun away from him.

 

He didn’t know what to say, so he snapped instead, “You bought her a giant rabbit doll.”

 

“I brought you to Australia.” Tony replied easily. “I can buy you a giant rabbit doll, too, if you’d like.”

 

Clint spun back to face Tony and jabbed him hard in the chest, right where his plate used to be. “Listen, you _chose_ Pepper Potts over the Avengers. I don’t know what you’re doing right now, Stark, but if you think this is some kind of elaborate joke-“

 

Tony took his offending finger and squeezed it, and then used it to pull Clint forward for a kiss. Clint pushed him away, but not before their lips had met. “I’m Iron Man.”

 

Clint scowled. “Yes, I know. The _world_ knows, courtesy of yourself.”

 

“I mean it, Clint. I am. Not the suit. Not the arc reactor. Me.” Clint opened his mouth to reply, frowned deeper, and shut it. “I’m not letting the Avengers go. Iron Man? That’s _me_. The suit I can just make. And I don’t think this is an elaborate joke.” He pulled Clint forward again, and this time Clint let him. “Come on. Let’s go out on the boat again.”

 

Clint had thought the day might be different, but it wasn’t. Tony left him to watch the waters again while he read. Clint put his head down. “Read to me.” He demanded. Tony looked at him, then grinned, adjusting his sunglasses.

 

Clint slid his gaze to the ocean again and watched a bright blue fish swim around, letting Tony’s voice be the background sound.

 

He woke up on his bed smelling burnt _something_ and he blinked up at the ceiling. He was on his bed, tucked neatly under the covers. He rubbed the sleep out his eyes and he made his way into the smoke-filled kitchen. “You should be labeled a fire hazard,” he grumped, sliding Tony out of the way.

 

“Because I’m so hot, right?” Tony winked, grinning like an idiot as he stepped aside. Clint tried to salvage whatever it was Tony had been trying to make – it looked like fried rice – and opted instead for dumping it down the food grinder. “Hey, I worked hard on that.”

 

Clint sent him an amused look. “So you want to feed me burnt rice?” Tony settled for a pout and watched as Clint started to cook from scratch. “I must feel secure around you. Normally I don’t sleep that deep unless I’m..” He cleared his throat. “Unless I’m with someone I trust.” Tony didn’t respond, so Clint looked up. Tony took the advantage to close the distance between them and grinned like an idiot when Clint rolled his eyes. “Don’t get cocky. I’d be like this with the other –“ He paused. “The other Avengers, too.”

 

Maybe not Thor, because that hit a little too close to Loki and his back throbbed just at the thought. But Tony didn’t have to know details. But definitely Hulk and Steve. And of course Nat. Tony examined him for a moment and nodded slowly. “But they never took you anywhere.”

 

Clint snorted. “No, they didn’t.”

 

\--

 

When Clint asked Tony why he was sleeping in Clint’s bed (even the nights where all they did was just sleep), Tony said, “Because you don’t get nightmares when I’m here with you.”

 

Clint opened his mouth to reply, then frowned, realizing he was right. The thought made him unnerved him and it made the scar on his back throb again. It wasn’t good. He’d never gotten so emotionally attached so quickly. Even Nat had taken him a long time to warm to, even if he’d been the one who made the call on saving her life. The only person he’d gotten attached to immediately was Coulson, and Coulson had pretty much given him a new life.

 

Tony must have read the panic in his face because he moved closer, pressing his forehead to Clint’s. “Don’t think so hard about it. Just let it _happen_. I’ll get you a giant stuffed rabbit, if it’ll make you feel better.”

 

\--

 

On the 11th day of their vacation, (Clint was beginning to feel it was a really _long_ vacation. Not that he was minding.) Tony got a call that made him off the entire day. “Pepper,” Tony explained, when Clint asked. “She’s sick, apparently. Nothing serious, just, you know, a cold. I think.”

 

That night, after watching Tony stare off into the distance for the entire day, Clint said, “Maybe you should go back to her.”

 

Tony started from that. “What? No, I’m just worried. You know. For a friend.”

 

Clint managed not to snort. “You’ve known her for a while, Tony. She was the center of your life for a long time, too. Go see her. I won’t be offended.” He watched Tony swirl the ice in his glass for a while. “Go.”

 

\--

 

Tony, it turned out, was not coming back. [I gotta – I gotta do things for SI. Turns out the vacation was way too long.] Tony laughed, like he was guilty, and Clint shrugged even though Tony couldn’t see over the phone. [Listen, though, you enjoy the rest of the week. Stay there as long as you want, and the hotel’ll just bill me for it. Oh, feel free to take the boat out. Whichever one.]

 

Clint stared at the phone after he hung up, and then pushed it on top of the bedside table. “Got attached too fast,” Clint told no one in particular. “It’s all right, Barton. You’ll get over it. It was a stupid crush, anyway.”

 

And he decided to stay the rest of the week, because why the fuck not.

 

\--

 

He woke up in the middle of the night, his back burning intensely and his head pounding. He sat up and brushed his hand on the scar, shaky. His hands came back clean, not bloody like he’d thought. He checked his back in the mirror. Even though his pounding headache, he could see his back was fine. _All in your head, Agent_ , the stupid doctor in psych had told him.

 

He padded out to the common area of the house – hotel – hut thing, and dipped his legs into the dark ocean. He considered going for a swim, and decided it wasn’t the best idea when he couldn’t see in the murky night waters.

 

His back still hurt. Maybe a bath, then, if not a swim.

 

\--

 

“You know,” a voice said, “falling asleep in the bath _really_ isn’t good for you.”

 

Clint sat up in a tangle of limbs. Tony grinned at him, a little guiltily. Maybe a bit sadly. Clint blinked, twice, thrice, and then even rubbed his eyes. “What?” He said, a little unintelligibly.

 

“I was dumb.” Tony answered, which wasn’t really an answer to Clint’s question. “I guess – I was just in bed, back in New York, and I felt so stupid. Not often I feel that way, by the way, so feel honored.” Tony cracked a grin his way, but Clint couldn’t stop staring. “You were having a nightmare. In the bath. Good thing I got to you, or I think you might have actually drowned.”

 

Clint blurted, “What are you _doing_ here?”  

 

Tony stopped talking. Then said, sheepishly, “I was dumb. I told you. Listen, you were right. I’ve known Pepper for a while. For a long time, she _was_ the center of my life. But that didn’t work out. And maybe there’s someone else I want there. Wait, that makes it sound like you’re my rebound guy. You’re not. I mean it. I was – I was lying in bed and all I could think was _Clint must be having a nightmare_. Also I forgot to go on our daily boat trip. Which was super asshole of me.”

 

Clint stared. And then laughed. “Don’t be an idiot,” he whispered. “I’m not forgiving you that easily.”

 

Tony grinned at him, crawled on top of the bed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Good. You’d be a pushover if you did.”

 

\--

 

They spent the rest of the week either on the boat, with Tony reading to Clint as Clint watched the ocean, or cuddling on the bed (or something doing more than cuddling, but whatever).

 

“Everyone else’s moved in. Well, minus Thor, but you know. Thor is off in Asgard.” Tony said, pulling one of Clint’s suitcases behind him. Clint didn’t have much _stuff_ – most of it fit in a suitcase and two duffel bags – but Tony had promised he’d furnished the floors so he wouldn’t need too much _stuff_ anyway. Clint watched the elevator, Tony caught Clint’s look and grinned. “I took what you told me into consideration. You’re right. For me to give you the penthouse suite is weird. So I made that into the common floor. It kind of was, before, anyway, except the only people using it were me and Pepper. I put in the shooting range and the gym right below it, since you and Steve and Nat like working out so much.”

 

The elevator _ding_ ed. “Below _that_ , is your floor.” Tony said. “Wait!” He reached back and slapped his hands on top of Clint’s eyes.

 

“Ow?”

“Whoops. Hold on. JARVIS, hold the elevator doors, will you?” Clint started at the mechanical _‘Certainly, sir_ ’, and Tony snickered. “You’ll have to get used to him. Anyway, face the back, and don’t peek. JARVIS, make sure he doesn’t peek.”

 

Clint stared up at the ceiling instead, fascinated by the AI system. “Can I talk to him, too?”

 

“ _Of course, sir. I’m programmed to aid you in making your life here in the tower the most comfortable as it can be_.” Clint jumped a little again, and smiled.

 

“Don’t get too chummy with him.” Tony called from somewhere on his floor, and Clint fought the urge to glance back. “JARVIS already likes Nat more than he likes me. Anyway, you can come in now.”

 

Clint turned and the elevator doors slid shut behind him. He turned a little to his left, where he heard Tony, and stopped. Tony was standing next to a giant stuffed cat. “I tried going for a hawk, but those aren’t really fluffy and cute.” Tony grinned. “What do you think?”

 

“I think Nat might commandeer it one day.” Clint snorted, letting Tony slid an arm around his waist. Tony’s arm was cool against his back, even through his shirt. The throb of the scar seemed to mute down with Tony’s touch, and Clint relaxed into it. “I guess it’s no rabbit. But I like it.”


End file.
